


With Great Power

by Gamla



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, I almost certainly won't finish this story so be warned, NOT A CHLOÉ REDEMPTION FIC, Scarlet Lady AU, She just gets worse in this story so please don't read if that's not what you want, kwami swap au, ladybug!chloe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamla/pseuds/Gamla
Summary: Being Ladybug made Marinette a better person, so perhaps being Ladybug would have made Chloé a better person too.Or perhaps not.Or:On the very first day of the school year, Chloé steals Marinette’s earrings. Things go downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

He had intended to leave the ancient little box in his chosen’s house, but in the end it was a matter of moments to subtly slip it into the young girl’s purse as she scrambled for her macaroons instead. It hardly made much difference.

Master Fu watched Marinette Dupain-Cheng run along to her first day back at school, and whistled cheerfully. Distributing the Miraculouses was turning out to be easier than expected.

***

Was there anyone in all of Paris more annoying than Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Entering the classroom to find they were once again sharing the same class, Chloé thought not. “I can’t believe she’s trying to steal my seat like that,” she said, indignantly eyeing Marinette, who was busy staring out into space and twiddling her thumbs inconspicuously. In  _ Chloé’s _ seat.

Chloé was too good for this class in general, but she was  _ especially _ too good for Marinette.

Sabrina nodded fervently. “Are we going to get rid of her?”

“Of course we are. But that’s not all we’ll do.” Clearly, the walking pair of pigtails needed to be knocked down a peg. The only question was how. Insulting her hair? Spreading rumors? Sticking gum on her chair?

Inspiration struck.

“I’ll talk to her. You, approach her from the other side and take something from her purse while I distract her. If she thinks she can steal from me, then I’ll steal from her. It’s like karma!”

Sabrina bounced lightly on her feet. “Wow, that’s so clever, Chloé!”

“I know,” Chloé said with a flip of her ponytail.

She stalked over and slammed her hand down on the desk Marinette had commandeered. Marinette shrank back against the school bench in surprise. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“Ugh, here we go again,” Marinette muttered, which about echoed Chloé’s own sentiments.

“That’s  _ my _ seat. So buzz off.”

“But Chloé, this has always been my seat,” Marinette said, all doe-eyed and braindead.

“Not anymore,” Sabrina said, sliding onto the bench from the opposite side. “New year, new seats.”

“Yeah, so why don’t you just go sit beside the new girl over there,” Chloé added, pointing to some bespectacled disaster in plaid sitting in the front.

“But....”

“Listen. Adrien’s arriving today, and since  _ that _ —” she pointed again, now to the row in front of them “—is going to be his seat,  _ this _ is going to be my seat. Get it?” She leaned threateningly over the desk.

“Who’s Adrien?” Marinette said cluelessly.

Chloé laughed loudly, and Sabrina quickly joined in. Hopefully the noise would block out any clinking from Sabrina rooting around in Marinette’s purse. Goodness knew she probably needed the help: Sabrina was hardly the most nimble of people—though at least she was far better than the outright danger zone that was Marinette.

“Can you believe she doesn’t know who Adrien is?” Chloé said to Sabrina and the room at large. “What rock have you been living under?”

“He’s only a famous model,” Sabrina informed Marinette, folding her arms. Chloé assumed that to mean the mission had been accomplished.

“And I am his best friend,” she said, wrapping things up. “He adores me. Go on, move.”

“Hey, who elected you queen of seats?” the plaid-clad fashion disaster rudely interrupted, because apparently there was no end to the line of empty-headed little idiots for Chloé to deal with today.

“Ooh, look, Sabrina! We’ve got a little do-gooder in our class this year.” Chloé leaned in close, getting in the girl’s face. She didn’t budge. “What are you gonna do, super-newbie? Shoot beams at me with your glasses?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said disdainfully. “Come on,” she added to Marinette, dragging her off and mercifully removing both their obnoxious presences. Chloé warily watched them go; Marinette was meek as a mouse, but the new girl spelled trouble. Then she took the abandoned seat and turned to Sabrina.

“So what did you get?” Chloé asked. It had better be something worthwhile, or she might reconsider the gum idea.

Sabrina moved closer and handed her a small, solid, fancy-looking box.  _ Probably something important _ , Chloé thought with delight. She turned it this way and that it in her hands.  _ Maybe even an heirloom. _

Should she open it immediately? The thought was tempting, but the chances of being caught were too high. This wasn’t something Chloé was willing to risk losing. She stuffed it in her bag for later.

***

The school day went downhill after that. First Adrien didn’t show, which was devastating, and then some kind of giant stone monster terrorized the school, which also wasn’t good. At least it meant Chloé got to go home early.

Sitting with her legs folded on her plushy high-class bed, Chloé fished Marinette’s box out of her purse. It was black with a complex red symbol on the top. When the light hit it right, more red could be seen shot all through the black in highlights. 

It felt... odd. The feel of polished wood, but the weight and hardness of metal.

Should she open it? It was what she’d intended to do, but... now that she was sitting there, her hand poised and ready, nothing to stop her—she found herself hesitating. There was something foreboding about the object, like it was watching her and thinking  _ not yours _ , as though it was aware it belonged to Marinette Dupain-Cheng and not Chloé Bourgeois.

Which was ridiculous. Chloé had nicked things plenty of times, and never had the object in question had anything to say about it. It was impossible. And even if it wasn’t, even a box would have the good sense to prefer Chloé to Marinette given half a brain cell.

Her fingers brushed the lid, then pulled back uncertainly.

_ Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen? _

She opened the box.

She caught a glimpse of—was that a pair of earrings?—before a ball of bright red light appeared, rising into the air and expanding alarmingly. Chloé scrambled back.

The light intensified into a pure white and then shrank back down into about the size of a fist. Then it faded, and in its place was a tiny pink creature hanging in the air. Its eyes were huge—and looking  _ straight at her _ .

“DADDY!”

Chloé toppled over the edge of the bed and faceplanted on the carpet. She spun back around immediately, crawling backwards and keeping her eyes glued to the—thing. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid—of course Marinette’s things would be crawling with vermin; compared to Chloé, she was so poor she practically lived in an old boot. This was probably some kind of rodent, or maybe even a—it was hard to even think it— _ cockroach _ . Chloé wouldn’t know; she’d never seen one before. Maybe they really were hot pink with disproportionately big heads.

Great Merlin, she had a cockroach in her room.

“Ew, ew, ew,” Chloé whimpered.

“Who are you?” the cockroach said, flying closer.

Chloé warded it off with a threatening swing of her purse. “Stay away!” she yelled shrilly.

“Don’t be scared! I’ll keep back if it makes you feel safer,” the cockroach said in what was likely the brightest, sweetest voice the earth had to offer. “Um. You’re not... who I was expecting.”

That knocked Chloé’s brain back online. “I’m not scared,” she said, affronted. Thinking about it, she was pretty sure cockroaches didn’t talk anyway. She stood up and brushed herself off. “And I’m a total upgrade from that Marinette girl anyway. You should be thankful you’re even talking to me right now.”

“Oh, you know her?” the little pink thing said hopefully.

“... Technically.”

“Then can you please help me find her? It’s very important!”

Chloé snorted. “Listen up, you little balloon head. I wouldn’t give you back to Marinette if my favorite shoes depended on it.” Okay, maybe she would, but Little Pink Thing didn’t need to know that.

“Give me back—what—you stole me?!”

... Oops. She did just say that, didn’t she?

Chloé tilted her chin up. “So? Marinette had it coming. Trust me, you don’t want to hear about all the things she’s gotten up to over the years. She’s a real troublemaker.”

“I’m sure you have your grievances,” Pink Thing said soothingly, “but it really is important that I find her. The entire city is in terrible danger!”

Yeah, right. And Marinette was supposed to help with that? Chloé couldn’t think of a more unlikely candidate.

Chloé faked a yawn. “Don’t care. You can go back into your box now.”

“This is serious!” Pink Thing said insistently. It—she?—flew up right in front of Chloé’s face. Chloé didn’t bat an eyelash. “Please, you have to get me back to Marinette! Bad things are coming. They’ll come for you too if they’re not stopped.”

“Me, Chloé Bourgeois, daughter of the most important man in Paris? Ridiculous.” She wanted to toss her hair and flounce off to her chaise longue, but a thought occurred to her and she hesitated. “This great danger of yours ... it wouldn’t have anything to do with that freaky stone monster running amok in the school, would it?”

Pink Thing gasped. “Oh no! It’s happening already. There’s no time to lose—I really must find Marinette immediately!”

Chloé laughed. “You think  _ Marinette _ could help you fight that thing? She’d lose a fight against a toothless squirrel. And you don’t look much better.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Pink Thing said. “Please, Chloé Bourgeois, will you help me save this city?”

“No.”

“Oh, I don’t have time for this!” Pink Thing wrung her hands together anxiously. Then she sighed. “Alright. If I tell you how I can save Paris, will you help me? Know that this is a great secret, and you must tell no one.”

That gave Chloé pause. A great secret, huh? Chloé was not one to pass up on one of those. And besides, the Pink Thing was annoying anyway. What did Chloé care if Marinette had to deal with her instead? If anything, it was a bonus.

“Okay, I will,” Chloé conceded. She sank down on the edge of the bed. “Go on.”

Pink Thing met her gaze with soulful eyes. “I’m a kwami, and my name is Tikki. I grant the power of creation to whoever holds my Miraculous—that’s the earrings in the box.” She gestured, and Chloé reached out across the bed to the abandoned box. A pair of innocuous round earrings lay nestled in it.

“Marinette has been Chosen as my new owner,” Tikki said. “She will use my powers to stop the evil happening in Paris, caused by someone who is abusing another kwami’s powers for their own purposes.” She flew closer, holding her hands out pleadingly. “That is why I must be returned to Marinette, Chloé. People’s lives depend on it. Do you understand?”

Chloé frowned. “You give people superpowers?” she said slowly.

“Yes. You can find traces of my past owners throughout history. Traditionally, they have gone by the title of Ladybug.”

“And now Marinette is going to be a superhero and fight evil.”

“As soon as I can get to her and tell her all this, yes.” Tikki bounced nervously in the air, throwing a glance out the hallway.

“Right. Okay.” Chloé stood up. Her head spun. “That’s not happening.”

“It—what?”

“You’re not giving your magic powers to  _ Marinette Dupain-Cheng _ . She’s, like, the worst person you could possibly pick.”

“Several tests have been taken. She passed the last one just today. She is the one,” Tikki said confidently.

“Clearly you didn’t have a test of putting one foot in front of the other without tripping,” Chloé said, waving a hand dismissively. She was only half paying attention, though. An idea had taken root in her mind.

All her life, Chloé had been special. She’d been above the rest, and everyone could see it. This had to be the next step. This had to be what she was meant for.

“Marinette is not the one you want. I am.”

Chloé was meant to become a superhero.

Tikki jerked back, as though Chloé had been making a grab for her. “What? No, you’re not!” she exclaimed.

Chloé bristled. What did Tikki even know? Chloé was  _ amazing _ . Everyone  _ adored _ her. “Uh, yes I am. I’m way more suited for being a superhero than Marinette. It’s obviously no accident you’re here. You were about to make a stupid mistake, and then fate interfered and gave you to me. It’s destiny!”

“Or theft, as some call it,” Tikki said. “You promised you would bring me to Marinette if I explained how it would save Paris!”

“Actually,” Chloé said sweetly, “all I promised was to help you. Which I will, by saving Paris for you! You’d only fail miserably if you tried putting Marinette behind the wheel anyway. I’m doing you a favor.”

She could see it already: the road of the future stood bright and shining before her. The epic fights, the immortalized victories, the adoring masses....

“You’ve already proven yourself unworthy by going back on your promise,” Tikki said—rather pedantically, in Chloé’s opinion. “Trickery and technicalities don’t change that. I’m meant for Marinette, not you.”

_ Marinette, Marinette, Marinette. Would you shut up about her already? _ The mere idea that Marinette of all people had even a single thing on Chloé was downright offensive.

“But you said your powers were granted to whoever holds your—Remarkabus, was it?” she demanded.

“Miraculous!”

“Right. And right now, that’s me. So I win.”

Tikki folded her arms. “Except that you don’t know the first thing about kwamis or Miraculouses. You need my help.”

That was true, Chloé had to admit. But she still had one more card to play.

She stretched languidly and shrugged. “Oh well,” she said with pointed indifference. “I guess I can’t force you. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a monster running around in Paris right now and I have  _ got _ to see how that’s going.” She took four, five, six steps in the direction of the hall, then stopped. Turned. “Oh wait, that reminds me—you’re running out of time, aren’t you?”

Comprehension dawned in Tikki’s eyes. Chloé smiled.

“It’s me or nothing. Your choice.”

***

Adrien walked with shocking ease across his extendable baton where it lay suspended across two rooftops. His balance, agility, precision—all of them were through the roof. Movement came to him so  _ easily _ now. And then there was the part where he could make jumps several times his own height.

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” he said with satisfaction, arms out on both sides for extra balance he was pretty sure he didn’t really need. He was so ready for this hero thing.

He heard an odd, faint sound from somewhere far above him, and looked up to see  _ something _ falling rapidly toward him.

“AaaaaaaAAAAAAAA,” yelled what Adrien had just enough time to recognize as a girl before she slammed right into him, knocking him clean off the baton. 

Next thing he knew, he found himself hanging upside down in the air, wrapped up in some kind of string and pressed up against the equally stuck girl. They swung back and forth like a pendulum, tied to the baton which the string had also gotten caught up in.

“Hey there,” Adrien greeted lightly. “Nice of you to drop in.”

“Ugh, get off me,” the girl said, which Adrien thought was a little harsh.

Nonetheless, he wriggled free of the haphazardly wrapped string and landed nimbly on the pavement— _ smooth as a cat _ , he thought. Superpowers were awesome.

“I bet you’re the partner my kwami told me about,” he said as the girl freed herself and tugged stubbornly on the string, which refused to let go of Adrien’s baton. Said string turned out to come from some sort of yoyo in her hand. Huh, neat. 

Anyway. “I’m, hmm...—” and oh, he got to pick a superhero name, because he was a  _ superhero _ , this was  _ so awesome _ “—Chat Noir. Yeah, Chat Noir. And you?”

The girl paused her tugging to look at him, and he took the opportunity to do the same.

She was clad in a form-fitting red suit with black dots, plus a matching mask covering her eyes. Halfway up her forearms and thighs, the red-and-black pattern switched to a dark maroon color, creating an appearance reminiscent of long gloves and over-the-knee boots. She had a light utility belt, and her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail with a red band.

_ This is my partner _ , he thought excitedly.

She gave one last tug at her string, finally freeing it and sending the yoyo crashing down directly onto Chat’s head.

“Aagh!” he yelped.

“Wow,” she said in a condescending tone as Chat rubbed the throbbing spot. “You really need to work on your reflexes. I can’t believe you didn’t dodge that. And you’re supposed to be my sidekick?”

“I—what?” Chat said, squinting at her uncertainly. Was she being serious?

“Ugh, and slow too. This is going to be painful.” She wrinkled her nose like just the thought of working with him was deeply distasteful to her.

A mix of heated indignation and cold hurt swirled inside him. “What do you mean, ‘sidekick’? I’m pretty sure that’s not—”

A distant  _ crash _ rolled through the street like thunder. 

Chat switched tracks. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said as he bent to pick up his baton, which had shrunk back down to standard size and fallen with the yoyo. “Right now, we need to move.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Well, duh,” she said and threw her yoyo at a tall building, where it wrapped around a pipe. “Follow my lead—if you can, that is.” With a yank at the string in her hands, she was off.

Chat stared after her for a long moment before moving. He had only just noticed that her costume had high heels.

He had a bad feeling about this.

***

Chloé stood on the roof covering the tribunes of a football stadium. Far below, her pathetic excuse of a sidekick—the thief planning to steal her limelight—was whacking the stone monster with his ridiculous stick. The monster, Stoneheart, grew even bigger than he already was and started aiming earth-shaking blows at Chat Noir as he dodged.

“Where are you, partner?” Chat Noir called, voice strained.

Chloé grimaced. In her eagerness to become a superhero, she’d forgotten about the part where she’d be risking her life. And performing acrobatics. And getting dirty. 

Was superheroing going to mess up her  _ hair _ ?

Stoneheart threw a goalpost at Chat Noir, who ducked. The goalpost bounced back up in the air with surprising force for something that really had no business bouncing around in the first place, heading for... was that Marinette’s dumb new friend Alya standing by the stadium entrance? 

Chat Noir threw his stupid stick, successfully settling it against the tribunes reaching just above Alya on either side, barely in time to repel the goalpost. The inattention cost him: Stoneheart grabbed him with one of his big grey fists.

Ugh. And she was supposed to fight that thing? Chloé would prefer not to be clutched like a tiny doll in a rock-hard, oversized hand, thanks. Why had she agreed to this again?

“What are you waiting for, super red bug?” Alya yelled at Chloé presumptuously. “The world is watching you!”

Oh, right. That was why.

There was a phone in the Alya’s hand, clearly recording. The video would undoubtedly be watched by everyone in Paris. It would be their first time seeing superheroes. Seeing  _ her _ . 

She needed to make an impression.

She leapt into the air, throwing her yoyo around Stoneheart’s leg and landing neatly in an appropriately heroic pose before him. “Don’t worry, Chat Noir!  _ I _ can deal with this ugly pile of rocks!” she said, yanking the string and pulling his feet out from under him. He grunted and released Chat Noir in the fall, who went hurling into the net of the remaining goalpost.

Chloé jogged up to him. “Didn’t take you long to get caught,” she said with satisfaction as he sprung back up. “I’m not surprised.”

He tensed. “Look, can we not do this right now? We kind of have a giant monster to fight, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Ooh, hit a nerve, did I?”

He gave her a disgusted look. Some people really couldn’t handle criticism.

She rolled her eyes. “Just go fight that monster, will you? Goodness, you’re useless.”

His fists clenched, but he did as directed. That was, until he landed a blow and Stoneheart grew even bigger.

“He grows every time he’s hit!” Chat Noir realized, leaping back.

Oh.

“Well, of course he does! Stop attacking him, you doofus!”

“We’ll have to try something else,” he said speculatively, ignoring her. “How about we use our powers! CATACLYSM!” 

Bubbles of something pitch black and immaterial formed around his right hand, constantly generating and disappearing into nothing. There was something unnatural about them that made Chloé want to tear her eyes away, like she was looking at small holes in the fabric of the universe.

“Apparently, I destroy whatever I touch,” Chat Noir said, and  _ now _ he was looking at her.

Chloé shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well,” she said, with perhaps a touch more nonchalance than she was really feeling, “I don’t see how that’s different from normal in your case.”

Chat Noir seemed to raise an eyebrow under his black mask. He flattened his palm against the goalpost, and it turned a rusted brown before crumbling away to nothing.

Okay then.

“Then what are you waiting for? Go get him! Shoo!” People wouldn’t be too impressed with his power, would they? It was pretty simplistic, after all—almost barbaric really. Nothing compared to her power of creation.

“You know, you’re welcome to help at any time,” he said tersely.

“Wow, ungrateful  _ and _ baseless. Did you not notice me saving you from the fist of that thing?”

“I don’t have time for this,” Chat Noir muttered and finally launched himself at Stoneheart, planting his right hand on Stoneheart’s leg. Nothing happened.

“Uh oh,” he said meekly, giving the giant glaring down at him a little wave. “I guess I only get one shot to use my power,” and oh right, Tikki had said something about that, hadn’t she. Chloé hadn’t been paying too close attention to the details.

Chat Noir was tossed on his head right back to Chloé.

“Incredible,” she said with a mix of scorn and glee. “I didn’t even know this level of stupid existed before I met you. Now you only have five minutes before you transform back. Did you listen to  _ anything _ your kwami told you?”

“You know, I didn’t hear you complaining when we were  _ planning this together _ ,” Chat Noir snapped. “And apparently, now I  _ really _ don’t have time for this.”

Chloé glanced at Alya. “Relax,” she said in a loud voice, “I’ll handle it again.” 

Time to show off her amazing ability.  _ Creation _ . She could call forth a mystery item to help her. How much cooler than destruction was that?

“LUCKY CHARM!”

Into her arms fell—a wetsuit?

“Superpower, eh?” Chat Noir said. Chloé fought down a blush.

_ Think you’re being funny, Tikki? _

“Obviously it’s for you,” she said and shoved the black-spotted red suit in his face. “Your outfit is ridiculous.” Dull black all over, with some kind of weird belt-tail and a cat bell at the throat? No thanks. “It can only be an improvement.”

Chat Noir let the wetsuit slip to the ground. “What is your prob—no, nevermind.” He took a deep breath. “What do we do now? We can’t hit Stoneheart or he’ll get bigger, and our powers are either out of commission or useless. How can we possibly defeat this guy?”

That pinged something in Chloé’s brain. “We’re not supposed to,” she remembered. “My kwami told me I have to break the object where the thingamajig—uh, the akuma is hiding.”

“But he’s made entirely out of stone.”

“Yes, I can see that.”  _ Thank you, Captain Obvious. Ugh, why am I stuck with this moron in a cat costume? _

Chat Noir studied Stoneheart closely, stroking his chin like some sort of detective. “He never opens his right hand,” he said.

“So?”

“So that must be where the object with the akuma in it is!”

That... made sense. “That took you this long to figure out? Of course that’s where it is! I didn’t think I had to spell that out for you.”

“Yeah, yeah. So how are we supposed to open Stoneheart’s fist?”

“I—uh...,” she said, trailing off as a water hose lying limply on the field seemed to flash oddly, momentarily turning the same black-spotted red coloring that the wetsuit and her own costume was. Chloé blinked at it. Was this that... clue-thing Tikki had said would help her use her Lucky Charm item? How could a water hose be of any help?

Chat Noir followed her gaze to the hose. “Now there’s an idea,” he said.  _ What? _

“Hey there!” he yelled to Alya, picking up the hose and waving it in the air. “The tap!” Alya looked around and spotted said tap, installed right by the entrance she filmed from. She wasted no time running over and turning it on, and water soon gushed freely from the hose.

Chat Noir crouched into a battle-ready stance. His ring beeped: only four minutes left before he detransformed, Chloé guessed. 

“I’ll try to make him to grab me with his right hand,” he said. “Maybe if I annoy him enough, he’ll get so angry he forgets himself. You....” He sighed. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but please, do whatever you can to help. People are depending on us.”

And he was off, aiming his water hose directly at Stoneheart’s face.

Chloé stared after him.  _ People are depending on us? _

Huh. She’d thought he was a competitor for the spotlight, but now it seemed he was genuinely dedicated to fighting evil for the good of it. That was...

That was perfect. She could probably dump all the actual work of superheroing onto him, and he’d shoulder it—because  _ people were depending on him _ . Someone needed to handle the fighting for her, after all. It would be just like Chloé and Sabrina’s group projects.

This was going to be  _ easy _ .

Meanwhile, Chat Noir was already succeeding in riling up Stoneheart, and was busy eating dirt as Stoneheart slammed him repeatedly into the ground. Chat Noir expanded his stick, forcing away Stoneheart’s hand and allowing an escape. Then he was back at it with the hose. Stoneheart roared, and lived to regret it as he choked on a mouthful of water.

Chat Noir dodged and ducked, rolled from a kick and weathered a punch, always coming back for more and wielding his hose like there was no tomorrow. His ring beeped for the fourth time.

“Any time, partner,” he gritted out between pants.

Chloé tried to inspect her nails. Ugh, her costume really should be fingerless.

Stoneheart reached for Chat Noir, who jumped onto his left forearm where only the other arm could get at him, clinging firmly and still spraying water. Stoneheart  _ finally _ opened his right fist to snatch him up—and something small tumbled from his hand. 

Chloé’s yoyo shot out to intercept it midair, and she caught it gracefully. It was only a balled up piece of paper, she saw, and tore it with ease. A deep purple butterfly fluttered out and ascended into the sky. Chloé watched it go with satisfaction.  _ That should have looked impressive enough. _

The torn paper healed itself in her hand, now perfectly normal if still crumpled. She dumped it without a second thought.

Farther out on the field, Chat Noir fell to the ground as Stoneheart’s large rock body dissolved away, leaving in its wake her dullard of a classmate, Ivan. Ivan put a hand to his head and groaned, eyes closed.

She briefly wondered why he’d been akumatized, but then decided she didn’t care.  _ Probably just spineless enough to be an easy target. _ That did sound like him.

“Wh—what’s going on? What am I doing here?” he said, but Chat Noir was already marching over to Chloé and neither of them paid him any mind.

“Here to thank me for saving the day?” she said with a honeyed smile and curious tilt of the head.

“You—” he spat, sounding for all the world like he was about to launch into an all-out tirade. 

Chloé didn’t let him get that far. “It’ll have to wait till next time,” she said with an oh-so sympathetic pout. “You’re about to detransform.” It was true; he likely had less than half a minute now before he switched back. 

She could see the conflict warring in his eyes, but he knew she was right.

“This isn’t over,” he warned, before turning and sprinting to the edge of the tribunes, where he used the stick as a pole to vault him up and away.

Chloé rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the approaching Alya, who was still filming. 

“Uncanny! Amazing! Spectacular!” Alya said, accurately summarizing the situation. “Are you gonna be protecting Paris from now on? How did you get your powers? Did you—”

Chloé’s earrings beeped, signalling she was on her last minute.  _ Better make this quick. _

“I’m here to defend all of Paris, yes,” she declared grandly. “It’s a heavy burden, I am aware, but I’m committed to shouldering it nonetheless.”

“Wow,” Alya said, stars in her eyes. “And your partner?”

“My sidekick will also help,” Chloé said graciously. “You might have noticed he made some mistakes today, but don’t worry. He means well, and I’m here to make sure everything works out.”

Alya nodded vigorously. “What’s your power all about? You created a wetsuit from thin air?”

“Ah,” Chloé said, groping for an answer, “that was... mm... a—clue, of sorts.” She seized upon the idea with relief. “Yes. It’s what guided me to realize we needed to use the water hose. My power is a strong one, but mysterious.”

“That’s so cool!” Alya said, pressing closer with her phone. “Again, how did you get your powers? Can you tell me anything about who you are?”

For a moment, Chloé wanted to tell her. Wanted to reveal to the world that is was her, Chloé, who was their saviour and hero, who deserved their unceasing admiration and praise.

Then she noticed the excitement on Alya’s face, the way she was almost vibrating with the desire to know, and Chloé realized she held the key to what was about to become the most sought-after secret in Paris. Soon, everyone would be talking about it, desperate to know the answer that only she could give.

An enigmatic smile graced her features. “Now  _ that _ would be telling.”

It was time to go. She spun on her heel and had dashed almost to the edge of the field when Alya’s voice once again called out to her.

“Wait! What should I call you?”

Chloé halted. She’d forgotten about that. A name was essential for achieving great renown, and so she couldn’t leave without giving one. 

What should her superhero name be? Tikki’s words flashed through her head— _ traditionally, they have gone by the title of Ladybug _ —but Chloé thought not; as if she would ever name herself after a bug of all things. Besides, why should she be the same as all the previous Miraculous holders? Chloé was meant to shine, to stand out, not to blend in like a dull carpet.

The ‘Lady’ part worked, though. She just needed something to go with it, something to capture her essence and make people stop and take note. 

She looked down at her bright red outfit—screaming  _ here I am _ so the whole world would see and rest easy at her coming—and knew.

“Scarlet Lady,” she said. “Call me Scarlet Lady.” And with a toss of her yoyo, she disappeared over the edge of the tribune roof and into the open blue sky.

***

Adrien collapsed face-first on his couch.

“Food,” Plagg said.

“Uarghhmff,” Adrien moaned into the cushion underneath him.

“Food!”

“Gimme a moment,” he said, eyes closed and body aching.

After the fight, he’d barely made his way back onto the streets and out of sight before losing his disguise. That had left him to make his way home on foot, which had not been fun. Being Chat Noir may increase his durability, but as it turned out, it didn’t make him completely immune to a pummeling like the one Stoneheart had dished out. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but he was left with a bone-deep tiredness.

Plagg was suspiciously quiet. Adrien forced open an eyelid to find him only centimetres off, staring at Adrien speculatively.

“So how was it?” Plagg said.

“What?”

“Your first day. How was it?”

Adrien groaned. “My partner... is the worst.”

“What, did she make fun of your bell? ‘Cause that’s not mean, it’s just fair.”

“Not specifically, although she did insult my outfit. And everything about me, really.”

“Maybe she was joking. Or bad at talking to people.”

“Maybe,” Adrien said tonelessly.

“Come on. What exactly did she say?”

Adrien sighed and forced himself upright. He didn’t really feel up to holding a conversation right then, but at the same time, the subject of his new partner had been bothering him almost since they’d met. Maybe talking it out would help.

“Well, she kept calling me stupid and behaving like she was  _ so _ much better than me. She’d act like I was useless, but barely even did anything to help, and took credit for everything I did. In the end, I pretty much defeated Stoneheart on my own: all she did was break the thing the akuma was hiding in.”

Plagg frowned. “That’s weird. Turn on the news, I wanna see what happened.”

Adrien did so, discovering that they were already in the middle of playing that bystander girl’s footage. It didn’t capture much of what had been said, catching really only the shouted parts, and Adrien to his annoyance found that his partner didn’t come across so very badly at all.

Then he reached the interview at the end.

“ _ I _ made mistakes?” he said incredulously to the smiling face on-screen. “The only reason you didn’t make mistakes was because you didn’t  _ do _ anything!”

Plagg had other concerns. “ _ Sidekick? _ ” he said, sounding personally insulted. Maybe he was.

“Yeah, that was another thing,” Adrien said. He kept watching until the interview wrapped up. “Scarlet Lady, huh? Good to know her name, I guess.” He fell back bonelessly against the couch cushions.

“Maybe she just needs time to adjust,” Plagg said, but he sounded doubtful. “It was her first time as a superhero, after all.”

Adrien didn’t answer. He stared pensively at the ceiling, trying to find the words to express exactly what was bothering him. Finally he said, “It just wasn’t what I expected it to be. That is—it’s just—I was so excited for this, you know? And I mean, part of that was because I wanted to help people, which I did, so that’s good. But... I kind of thought it would be an escape too. From my, um, kinda strict schedule, and the house, and my... well.” He cleared his throat. “I guess that’s selfish.”

Plagg shook his head. “Eh, not really. You want to help people, and you are. For free, even! It’s not wrong to get something else from it too—be it fun jumping around on rooftops, or taking a break from the rest of your life.”

Adrien wasn’t so sure: a new thought had occurred to him, souring in the pit of his stomach. “Hey Plagg?” he said. “Why was I picked? To become a superhero, I mean.”

“Oh, many reasons,” Plagg said vaguely. “You were the right one for the job.”

“Like Scarlet Lady was?”

“Hey, now.” Plagg zoomed up to him. “There are tests in place for these things, and they’ve been there for a really long time. They work, okay? Either something went wrong with this Scarlet Lady specifically, or she’ll show herself to be worthy soon enough. That doesn’t say anything about you. Okay?”

Adrien pondered that for a moment. “... Yeah, okay,” he said. 

He felt lighter. Suddenly, the situation didn’t seem quite as bad as it had half a minute ago.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m being way too negative about this; Scarlet Lady isn’t everything there is to being a superhero. Like the superpowers, those were fun. Next time, I’ll even know how to use Cataclysm properly!” The thought cheered him. “And anyway, I’ve only met Scarlet Lady one time. She could definitely improve. Like you said, she was chosen for a reason.”

“Well, technically I said—”

“Maybe she just needs some guidance! I could set a good example.” That was what you were supposed to do, wasn’t it? Have empathy and understanding, and through that, demonstrate how to be a better person. He just had to be patient.

Plagg shrugged. “Sure.”

Adrien traced little patterns on the couch with his fingertip. “I feel better now,” he said. “Still tired after, you know, being splattered all over the football field, but. Yeah. Thanks.”

Plagg looked uncomfortable. “Ahh, don’t sweat it,” he said, desperately casual. “It was nothing. He—hey! Weren’t you gonna get me some food? What happened to that?”

Adrien smiled and went along with it, pushing past his fatigue to fetch Plagg... camembert, apparently. Oh well. At least it didn’t stink  _ quite _ so badly as dead fish.

Just as Adrien was planning to hit the bed to snore away the—short, far too short—time until piano practice, the still-playing news revealed that in the wake of the battle, dozens of people had turned into stone monsters à la Stoneheart. Unlike him, though, these all stood frozen and unmoving.

“Plagg, what’s going on? I thought we defeated him!”

“Did you capture the akuma?”

“I...—” Adrien searched his memory, but he hadn’t been paying attention to that at the time, and the televised footage changed focus to the kid who’d been Stoneheart a little too soon after Scarlet Lady released the akuma to be sure “—don’t know?”

Plagg explained how this was almost certainly a consequence of not capturing said akuma, which was apparently a responsibility only Scarlet Lady could carry out.

“Well,” Adrien said, with a touch of dark humor. “Seems I wasn’t the only one who made a mistake today after all.”

***

“Outstanding hero work you did today, I see,” Tikki said snippily.

“Details.”

“You can fix this,” Tikki insisted, but Chloé ignored her. 

After all her hard work, she deserved to relax. The frozen stone giants couldn’t be that important, and besides—Chloé had magazines to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! For those not aware, this fic is based on a Miraculous Ladybug AU concept that got popular on tumblr, called the Scarlet Lady AU. It was first come up with by thescuttlebugg and then taken up by zoe-oneesama, who really expanded on the concept and made it what it is now. If you see anything similar to this fic elsewhere, then that would be why! Written with blanket permission.


	2. Chapter 2

“Who could she be?”

“Where’d she come from?”

“How’d she get her powers?”

“Who is Scarlet Lady?”

Chloé stood in the school courtyard with a satisfied smile, soaking up the gossip.

She was Scarlet Lady. Scarlet Lady was her. Her. They were all talking about  _ her _ .

Chloé closed her eyes and basked.

It had all turned out exactly as she’d planned it. They praised her, envied her, speculated about her. She carried her secret close to her chest, and said not a word as people all around her thirsted to know. It was perfect. It was everything that was her due, finally realized.

Footsteps, light and quick like a skittish bunny, alerted her to Sabrina’s approach. Chloé opened her eyes and held out a hand, receiving her homework like usual.

“Scarlet Lady is amazing, isn’t she, Sabrina?” she said.

“Um... yeah?” Sabrina said hesitantly, toeing the waters. Upon seeing Chloé’s gratified smile, she grew enthusiastic. “Yeah! Scarlet Lady is totally amazing! Though not as amazing as you, Chloé.”

Chloé smirked.  _ Oh, I’d say we’re about equal. _

Ivan entered, hunched and withdrawn, drawing everyone’s attention while keeping his own fixed firmly on the ground. He found himself a bench and sat down heavily, and most of their classmates wasted no time gathering around him like brainless moths to a flame. 

Chloé sidled over, leaning nonchalantly against a support pillar at the outer edge of their circle. Sabrina followed.

“Did you really turn into a stone monster?” Alix said, and then they were off, everyone armed to the teeth with questions to ask and opinions to give. Most of them were completely stupid, but Chloé listened with interest nonetheless. Unfortunately, the blabber was mostly focused on Ivan and Stoneheart, instead of—hello—the superhero who had defeated him.

“I don’t remember it at all,” Ivan told them, his head bowed.

“Not even Scarlet Lady?” Chloé said, helping everyone with the perfect opening.

Ivan shook his head. “Except for at a distance after I turned back, I guess.”

“Was she cool or what?” she said, but for some reason her classmates were  _ still _ more concerned with talking about Ivan. Why did anybody care about someone turning into an ugly, boring monster-thing when that same person was also a witness to the world’s most awesome superhero?

“So you really don’t remember anything?”  _ He just admitted to seeing Scarlet Lady. _

“You were totally going ballistic. It was so cool.”  _ Not as cool as Scarlet Lady! _

“You were seriously out to crush me, dude!”  _ Guess who saved you? SCARLET LADY. _

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t myself,” Ivan said, but Chloé had had enough.

“Pfft. Once a monster, always a monster,” she said viciously. “You always looked like a brute anyway. Now we know what’s been hiding on the inside all this time.” If she was lucky, he might even believe it—after all, he couldn’t know what had happened to him. He didn’t have Tikki around to explain that an evil butterfly had used his negative emotions to hijack his brain. None of them did.

None but Chloé. 

She was just so much  _ better _ than them.

At her words, Ivan went from apologetic to angry. He stomped off without a word like the coward he was. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!” she called after him with a wave.

Alya walked up to her with a confrontational look abut her, clearly puffed up from having the undeserved privilege of talking to Scarlet Lady yesterday, and Chloé was reminded that she was a mewling little girl scout.

“How could you say that to Ivan? You’re the real stoneheart!” Alya said fiercely. 

_ That’s not what you were saying yesterday _ , Chloé thought smugly, but knew better than to say it.

“So I’m the one who broke Sabrina’s dad’s arm, am I?” she said instead. “Just because you met the superhero Scarlet Lady and got it shown on TV doesn’t actually make you worthy of licking her boot, so you don’t have to get so high and mighty.”

“You little...,” Alya said and clenched her fists, no doubt having thought herself above all criticism.

“Look out, she’s angry!” Chloé exclaimed, hands on her cheeks. “She’s going to split her underwear and turn into a huge muscly monster!”

Alya stalked off, and was immediately replaced by someone far more pleasant.

“Hey, Chloé,” said Adrien Agreste, he of the perfect golden hair and brilliant green eyes. Handsome. Rich. Famous.  _ Chloé’s _ .

“Adrikins! You came!” She ran up to him and enfolded him in her arms, clinging tightly as people recognized exactly who had wandered off a magazine cover to grace them with their presence. Hordes of students clustered around them, and Chloé hung proudly onto his arm as she guided their way through them. Adrien smiled and nodded and signed authographs, though he looked weary.  _ Fame can be tiresome _ , Chloé thought with the knowledgeability of experience.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday,” he told her in a low voice. “I got held up. I don’t know if I’ll come back after today, but at least I’m here now.”

Chloé gasped. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you come back?” Had he been scared off by the swarm of inferiors surrounding them? That would be reasonable, but still—Chloé couldn’t lose the one person in school worthy of her after a single day! She’d barely even had the chance to gloat about him!

“You know my dad’s pretty strict,” Adrien said. “He wants me to go back to being homeschooled. But I wanted to be here, to make friends and be like everyone else.”

Chloé, of course, caught the unspoken  _ I wanted to be closer to you _ without having to ask.

“I know what you mean,” she told him wisely. “So, Adrikins, don’t you think Scarlet Lady is like totally amazing? Of course you do. Right?”

Adrien looked oddly constipated. “Ah. Um. I don’t know.”

“You don’t? It’s all anyone’s talking about! I guess I’ll have to tell you all about her....”

***

Marinette found Ivan sitting with his arms around his knees, listening intently to music in the locker room. For all that he was the biggest person in her class, he was making a noble effort to take up as little space as possible. Her heart panged.

She wondered how Chloé could bring herself to be so pointlessly cruel to people. What could she possibly gain from it?

Marinette sank down beside him and put a hand on his wrist. She wasn’t as brave as Alya, couldn’t stand up to Chloé like she did, but this Marinette could do. Ivan took off his headphones.

“Are you alright, Ivan?” she said softly.

He avoided her eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, guarded but without bite.

“You know Chloé’s wrong, right?” she said. “What happened to you obviously has something to do with those butterfly things that turned all those people into frozen stone monsters, we all know that. That’s not on you.”

Ivan didn’t look comforted. “Mylène looked nervous,” he said.

_ Oh, of course. _ Fondness for Ivan sprouted in her chest; she should have seen this coming.

“Not because of you, I’m sure,” she said gently. “She probably wanted to talk to you, but didn’t dare to with that crowd.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I do.”

His shoulders relaxed. Marinette, heartened, went on to encourage him to tell Mylène how he felt about her, and they decided between them that a song would be the best way of doing so. By then his closed-off demeanor had melted away, and he practically ran out of the room, giddy and hopeful.

Marinette met up with Alya and went to class. There was a new kid in attendance; Marinette wondered if he was the Adrien that Chloé had talked about yesterday. Even if he was, he looked pleasant enough—if a bit tired—and she decided there was little harm in giving him a chance. 

Mylène arrived some time later, and Marinette scanned her excitedly for signs of Ivan having talked to her. 

She was interrupted when Stoneheart crashed into the classroom in a fury.

“Mylène!” he roared. People were screaming, everyone fleeing or trying to hide, and Marinette stumbled back as panic squeezed her chest. An uneasy thought pricked at her.

Was this her fault?

Stoneheart got hold of Mylène, ignoring her pleas to let go. He spotted Chloé curled up under a table and ripped it away from over her head. She screamed and hid her face, and Marinette found herself moving forward without thinking.

“Ivan, stop!” she yelled, standing in front of Chloé like a soft, flimsy shield, her heart hammering in her chest and thundering in her ears. “Wha—whatever’s happened, I’m sure we can—”

Stoneheart roared again. “Stop interfering, Marinette! You only make things  _ worse _ !”

The words felt like a wave of icy cold water washing through her. This  _ was _ her fault.

“No...,” she whispered. Stoneheart bent to peer down at her with his luminous yellow eyes, large and round like flashlights. Fear made her knees weak: it was all she could do to remain standing. Then he reached out a huge hand for her, and she no longer needed to.

***

Typical Marinette. It was just like her to go and get herself captured by some humongous piece of rock.

After Stoneheart broke through the classroom wall and wandered off with Dumb and Dumber, Chloé abandoned the classroom—which had gotten drafty anyway—and hid herself away in the locker room. 

Tikki immediately popped out of her purse and wasted no time pestering her. “You should never have been so cruel to Ivan! Look what’s happened!”

Chloé rolled her eyes. Tikki was such a nitpicker. “Well, obviously it’s not my fault if he can’t take the slightest bit of criticism. And besides, didn’t you hear him? This is Mylène and Marinette’s fault. I’m not surprised. I told you Marinette would make a terrible superhero, and now she’s already going around akumatizing people. This is worse than even I predicted.”

Tikki opened her mouth, paused and frowned, then said, “So what you’re saying is that it’s okay if  _ you _ akumatized Ivan, but if  _ Marinette _ akumatized Ivan, then that is... not okay?”

“What?” Chloé said impatiently. “When did I ever say that? Stop making things up, it’s pathetic. It’s so obviously because I’m not your precious Marinette who, guess what, got herself caught by Stoneheart like an idiot. Unlike me. How much more evidence do you need that I’m better than her?”

Tikki watched her with wide eyes. She said, in a chiding yet imploring tone, “Chloé, that’s unfair and ungrateful. She  _ saved _ you! And now we have to hurry, so we can save her.”

Why did Chloé have to have such a horribly biased kwami? It was obvious she just wanted to get her beloved Marinette back, and was trying to use Chloé to do so. Chloé was almost tempted to refuse; it would be well deserved. 

But no. This was an excellent opportunity to awe the masses again as Scarlet Lady. She couldn’t leave that in the hands of that mangy cat.

“I think you mean save all of Paris,” she sniffed. “Spots on!”

She found Chat Noir not too far away, caught in the grip of one of the many stone monsters surrounding him. His stick was lying in the street, apparently having been tossed to  _ once again _ defend that idiot Alya from an object about to fall on her head—this time a car, judging by how she was pinned by it against a building, unharmed but stuck.

“Let go, you rockhead!” Chat Noir was yelling ineffectively, his upper body and head covered while his legs dangled free, kicking uselessly. Scarlet Lady put a hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

He must have been able to glimpse her thorugh the gaps between the monster’s fingers, because he shouted, “Scarlet Lady! Toss me my baton!”

“You’re hardly in a position to make demands right now,” Scarlet said breezily as Alya cried out for help in the background. Had he really not learned yet that he couldn’t boss her around?

“Do it or you’ll have to manage on your own,” Chat Noir threatened, which was a good point. Scarlet evaluated the difficulty of retrieving the stick for him, and deemed it annoying but not hair-endangering. Beneath her, but possibly worth it.

With a world-weary sigh, she threw her yoyo and caught the stick, which she then threw at the top of the stone giant’s fist where Chat Noir’s hand was poking out. He gripped and extended it, forcing the fist open and allowing him to spring free.

He sprinted right back to Alya and wedged his stick in with her, extending it again and thus tipping the car away from her. She hurried out of the way and fell to the ground, gasping a little. “Thanks,” she said, a bit hoarsely.

“No problem,” Chat Noir said. He turned back to the stone monsters in the area, which all seemed to be going someplace. “Time to take care of these guys!”

“Wait!” Alya said, stretching out a hand. “The—the main one, Stoneheart, he took my friend and another girl. Please, you have to save them!”

“On it!” Chat Noir said, then tilted his head consideringly. “There’s a thought... maybe we should be aiming for the source anyway.”

Scarlet thought it over; it seemed likely. “Well, of course,” she said. “You really thought fighting the knock-offs was going to do any good?”

Chat Noir curled his lip, but then shook his head and looked away. “Let’s go,” he said, sounding less enthusiastic than he had a moment ago, which was really all for the better.

“Follow my lead,” Scarlet had to add, so neither he nor Alya would think that he was the one giving the orders, and took off after the stone monsters, relying on them to guide the way.

***

It was so far  _ down _ .

Marinette shivered. She was up on the first level of the Eiffel Tower, held in the grasp of an angry monster, and she might not be alive tomorrow.

_ She might not be alive tomorrow. _

Police helicopters surrounded them in the air, so very loud but also comforting, and far below, the police had set up barricades and were trying to ward off the stone monsters gathering there. 

The wind was colder up here, where there was little to buffer it. She rubbed her arms.

From a distant barricade, a small pinprick of a person spoke up in an amplified, distorted voice that must come from speaking through a megaphone. “I demand the safe return of the citizens of Paris you are holding hostage!” he said.

Stoneheart looked at Marinette, and terror shot down her spine. She shuddered. “You know what?” he said. “You’re welcome to this one.” And he hurled her at the barricade.

Marinette  _ screamed _ . The wind was rushing in her ears, stinging in her eyes, and she was moving so quickly and the ground was coming up towards her and  _ I don’t want to die I don’t want to die please NO— _

Someone caught her.

Marinette blinked, and looked for some reason not even she knew at her hand. She closed and opened it, wiggled the fingers experimentally. Blinked again.  _ I’m alive _ , she thought dumbly. She turned to her savior.

It was one of the new superheroes—Chat Noir, his name was. He looked down at her with bright green eyes and smiled reassuringly. “It’s alright,” he said. “You’re alright.”

It was all Marinette could do not to burst into tears. She wound her arms around him, practically clinging, and pressed her head against his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered, and felt him embrace her back.

“Wow, pathetic,” a nearby voice said. Marinette pulled back a little, frowning.  _ What? _

“She almost died, Scarlet Lady,” Chat Noir said quietly. Marinette looked past him, and sure enough, there stood Scarlet Lady, hand on her hip and tapping her foot impatiently.

“Ugh, why am I stuck with you?” she said—flippantly, but also with what sounded like genuine contempt. “Use your brain, moron. She’s clearly just faking it for the attention.”

_ This _ was the hero Alya was enamored with? Marinette opened her mouth to say something, what she didn’t know, but didn’t get the chance as a police officer declared, “We’re clear to attack!”

“Wait!” Chat Noir said, stepping away from her and gesturing broadly. “Don’t do that! You know it’ll only make it worse!”

“I have a new plan, unlike you. Move aside and let the pros do their thing; you’ve already failed once!”

Chat Noir surveyed the lines of officers aiming guns at Stoneheart sceptically. He turned to Scarlet Lady. “He has a point. We should figure out our own plan,” he said.

“Speak for yourself, mangy cat,” Scarlet Lady said, tossing her hair. Marinette stared.  _ What is with her? _ Surely there was some reason for this behavior Marinette just wasn’t privy to. Yes, that had to be it.

“Okay, so I’ll figure out a plan,” Chat Noir amended.

Stoneheart coughed, and coughed again; great, violent coughs like he was hacking up a lung. He grabbed his stomach, grunted—and puked up a swarm of purple butterflies. He fell back heavily, seemingly fainted. The butterflies rose up into the air and formed the shape of a face, shifting and indistinct due to the fluttering wings it was made of.

“People of Paris,” it said in a masculine voice. “I am Hawkmoth. Scarlet Lady, Chat Noir—give me the ladybug earrings and the cat ring now. You’ve done enough damage to these innocent people.”

Marinette couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This Hawkmoth-person had used these butterflies of his to turn people into stone monsters, and then made them attack the city and its people—and now he thought he could paint the heroes who showed up to stop him as the villains?

She stepped forward, clapping her hands slowly. In the silence after Hawkmoth’s speech, the sound cut sharply through the morning air. 

“Nice try, Hawkmoth,” she said, her voice strong and confident even as she could hardly believe her own daring, “but we know who the bad guy is. Let’s not reverse the roles here. Because of you, these innocent victims have been transformed into villains. Because of you, I almost died less than two minutes ago—and because of the heroes, I’m still alive.”

***

_ She’s amazing _ , Chat thought.

An ordinary girl with no powers or protection or anything, her life nearly extinguished mere moments ago, and yet there she stood, bravely standing up to the man who would have killed her.

Scarlet Lady coughed pointedly beside him. “ _ Attention-seeker alert, _ ” she said in a carrying undertone that Chat hoped only he was close enough to hear. “Alright, time for the real hero to show people how it’s done.”

Scarlet Lady strode forward. “Hawkmoth,” she said. “No matter how long it takes, I will find you, and  _ you _ will hand me  _ your _ Miraculous!” 

She leaped forward, to the Eiffel Tower and then up, wielding her yoyo and cutting through the mass of butterflies again and again until it scattered like confetti and faded into nothing. She landed on the edge of the first level, where she straightened and turned to face them all. 

“People of Paris!” she announced grandly. “No matter what happens, know that I, Scarlet Lady, will always be here to save the day!” She released the butterflies from her yoyo, and they exploded out in every direction, now a shimmering golden white.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Chat said as everyone around him broke into wild cheers.

Stoneheart rose, still holding Mylène. Chat charged toward the tower, reaching Scarlet Lady and Stoneheart on the first level. Mylène cried out for help, waving her arms at them. 

“You’ll never take Mylène from me!” Stoneheart said, jumping onto one of the tower’s four pillars.

“Like anyone would want to,” Scarlet Lady huffed.

“Come to me, my stone beings,” Stoneheart said as he ascended, and the horde of stone monsters below began the climb as well.

Chat peered down at them. “We’re surrounded,” he said. “What do we do now?”

“I literally just single-handedly took down a host of evil butterflies and stopped Hawkmoth in his tracks. Why does everything have to be up to me? How about you pull your weight a little, hmm?”

Chat bit down the  _ but I thought I was just a measly sidekick _ that came to mind, reminded himself that he had decided to lead by example, and said instead, “... Right, yeah, your butterfly catching skills. Sounds intense. I was especially impressed with your total number of catches yesterday.” 

Thinking about it, perhaps that wasn’t all too polite either. Oh well.

Anyway. He had to get planning.

The situation was mostly like it had been yesterday, with the exception that Stoneheart had Mylène, and seemed to be holding both her and the akuma in the same hand. Since he was already holding Mylène, Chat thought it unlikely that Stoneheart could be tricked into grabbing Chat with that hand like last time. And then there was Mylène’s safety to think of.

What options did that leave?

“Hey, Scarlet Lady?” he said, coming up empty. “What’ve you got in your utility belt?” Chances were slim that it would be anything helpful for this particular scenario, but he was grasping at straws at this point.

“Essentials,” Scarlet Lady answered. “Which reminds me,” she continued, and opened one of the tiny compartments to pull out a gleaming tube of lipstick.

Chat... did not know what to do with that information. “Your utility belt is for. Lipstick.”

“Mhmmm,” she hummed as she applied it. It was a very pale pink that in no way jelled with her fierce red mask and outfit—and apparently even her costume agreed, as it immediately changed the color back to red. Scarlet Lady made a noise of frustration.

“Forget I asked,” Chat said, wishing he himself could do the same, and set off climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower. He didn’t have a plan yet, but the stone monsters were nearing and they had to move.

He caught up with Stoneheart at the top and perched on the great antenna crowning the tower. Stoneheart was supporting himself with his free hand, Chat noticed, leaving both occupied. Could that be used to once again drive him to make a grab for Chat with the hand holding the akuma?

It was worth a try. Chat jumped down, landed on Stoneheart’s upper arm, hopped onto his thick shoulders and ran across to his other arm, trying to be as obnoxious as possible. Stoneheart swatted at him, but his fist remained clenched.

Chat performed some really rather impressive acrobatic feats, swinging around on Stoneheart’s body, even briefly sitting on his head and leaning down to peek at him before relocating posthaste. 

He couldn’t see what Scarlet was doing, but that wasn’t a surprise. At least it meant there was the theoretical chance that she was doing  _ something _ .

An unexpected movement from Stoneheart threw off Chat’s hold. Before he could correct for it, a giant fist came up to meet him, grinding him mercilessly against the solid metal of the Eiffel Tower. He wheezed. Stoneheart raised a leg and kicked him away, sending him careening into the stone creatures below.

What followed was a round of ping-pong with Chat as the improvised ball.

He’d ended up all the way down on the second level, head swimming and limbs watery, before he managed to grab onto something—the railing, which as it happened, the giant clutching at his legs was also supporting himself with. An idea flickered through his head, and Chat  _ acted _ .

“Cataclysm!” he yelled, and the railing withered away under his hand. The giant tipped back and fell, slamming into others beneath him and dragging two down with him—but Chat clung to the edge of the second level floor, heaved himself onto it, and laid there gasping.

That had been... unpleasant. Chat really didn’t think he had another one of those in him.

“There you are,” Scarlet Lady said. Chat tilted his head to find her standing there, looking annoyed. “Your ridiculous little trapeze act didn’t work.”

“Did you even try to save me?” Chat said curtly, unable to muster up the energy to sound entirely civil.

“Ego, much? I had bigger concerns.”

“Like what?”

“Um, hello? Giant stone monster?” Right. The one that Chat had been fighting on his own. 

He sighed. “Silly me.”

He forced himself upright and got moving. The journey up wore on him this time, but there was nothing for it. He had to stop Stoneheart and save Mylène.

Back on the third level, things were much the same as they had been. Mylène was pleading with Stoneheart, her cheeks shining with tears.

“Don’t worry!” Chat said, wishing he sounded more authoritative and confident. “We’ll get you out of here!”

She stretched out a hand toward him, like she wanted him to take it and pull her to safety somehow. 

An idea sparked to life.

Chat sped toward her, reaching toward her still-raised hand and dropping his baton into it, then somersaulting back out of reach. “Extend it inside his hand!” he said.

She squinted uncertainly at the controls, and Chat had a moment of doubt—his degree of control over the baton  _ was _ due to his connection to it, had he underestimated by how much?—but then she stuck it into Stoneheart’s grip and did as instructed.

Stoneheart’s hand opened. Scarlet Lady’s yoyo shot out and caught the crumpled piece of paper falling out. Mylène screamed and hung on to the great stone fingers for dear life.

Scarlet Lady tore the paper, and a butterfly crawled out, taking off toward the sky. “Oh no, you don’t!” she said, spinning her yoyo. “De-evilize—oh!”

Stoneheart’s guise had given away. Mylène and Ivan plummeted.

“We have to save them!” Chat said, already heading for the edge.

“You do that.  _ I _ have a day to save,” Scarlet Lady said, spinning her yoyo again.

There was no time to argue. Chat jumped.

He streamlined himself as best he could, thankful that Mylène and Ivan were both doing the exact opposite. He caught up to Ivan, pulling him in under his arm, then reached Mylène and wrapped his legs around her. With his remaining hand, he took the baton from her and extended it through one of the Eiffel Tower’s many holes, where it jammed and checked their fall.

For a moment, the three of them just hung there.

“Alright, Ivan,” Chat said, valiantly ignoring the increasing ache of his arm, “I’m sorry to have to ask this, but could you grab on to my waist? I suspect I’ll need at least two limbs available if I’m going to get us down from here.”

***

Scarlet watched the pure white butterfly fly away. According to Tikki, there was only one more thing that needed doing: fixing all the damage the akuma had caused.

“Lucky Charm!” she said. A trophy fell into her hands, and Scarlet exulted. Now this was more appropriate than a dumb wetsuit. She had won. She’d defeated everyone—Hawkmoth, Stoneheart, Marinette. She had secured her place as the heroine of Paris.

The trophy was engraved, she saw. “For Participating,” it read. Odd.

She tossed it into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!” she shouted, and the trophy dissolved into brilliant energy. The energy spread out in all directions, and everywhere it went, the city healed.

It was amazing.  _ She _ was amazing.

Standing far above the masses, Scarlet Lady admired the evidence of her momentous importance with a smile.

***

“Ivan! Mylène!” It was the girl who’d spoken up against Hawkmoth. Chat was just leaving the foot of the Eiffel Tower with his two charges, who both looked relieved to be getting some distance. The girl ran up to meet them. “You’re alright—huh?” A brush of that energy sweeping everywhere from the top of the tower—undoubtedly Scarlet Lady’s work—whisked past them, leaving in its wake a piece of paper lying by their feet.  _ The object that held the akuma _ , Chat thought.

The girl picked it up, scanning the text on it. “Oh, Ivan, how sweet... Mylène, have you seen this?”

Ivan scratched his neck awkwardly and stared at his feet, but Mylène took the paper with curiosity. “Wow!” she said. “It’s really beautiful! It’s a shame I can’t hear the words when you scream—I mean, when you sing.”

Ivan apologized for scaring her, and she hugged him, and Chat got the feeling he was missing some context—but it all seemed to have worked itself out anyway, so that was fine. He really just wanted to crash on his bed and sleep for a week, so his ability to care for the particulars was limited.

“Oh, I’m glad this wasn’t my fault after all,” the girl-who-stood-up-to-Hawkmoth commented. 

“Why would it be your fault?” Chat said, surprised. He wished he knew her name; he was pretty sure she was one of his new classmates, but unlike with Ivan and Mylène, he hadn’t caught her name in the fighting, and they hadn’t gotten through roll call before Stoneheart had interrupted.

She ducked her head. “I... I encouraged Ivan to tell Mylène how he felt. When Stoneheart appeared, I thought it had all gone wrong—which I suppose it had, but not because I told him to try in the first place, eheh.” She wrapped her hands around herself, almost defensively.

Chat shook his head. “That’s absurd! Encouraging someone to confess how they feel is in no way the same as turning them into a stone giant. You didn’t cause this, and you sure aren’t responsible for it. That honor goes to Hawkmoth, and Hawkmoth alone.”

The girl’s eyes were wide, but his ring beeped before she could respond. Two minutes left. “Seems I gotta go soon,” he sighed. It came out wearier than he meant it to.

Marinette’s brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked, eyeing the tired slump of his shoulders.

He straightened the best he could, suppressing a wince. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” There was nothing to be said on the subject. Some fatigue was only to be expected after a fight, and it seemed to Chat a bad idea to let the public in on the... difficulties in his and Scarlet Lady’s relationship. Besides, he had something else to say to her, and only so much time left to do so. “I wanted to thank you for standing up for me and Scarlet Lady earlier. That was really impressive!”

She blushed. “Oh, um, thanks. But it’s really nothing, and less than you deserve for saving everyone! You’re a real hero.” 

The words meant more to him than he would’ve expected; perhaps it was because after Scarlet Lady’s interview, most of Paris considered him little more than a sidekick. He smiled, affection warming his worn body.

A soft thud moved his attention to a point farther away from the tower, where Scarlet Lady had landed neatly. “Everything is alright now!” she announced, and quickly accumulated a throng of reporters.

“Yes, that healing force washing over the city was all me,” she told them. “Yes, yes, it’s extremely powerful, that’s true. There’s nothing quite like it.”

Chat considered going over there and saying something himself... but he was running out of time, and he hadn’t even recovered from yesterday’s fight yet, and then this one had been even worse, and—and he was just so  _ tired _ .

“I’ll be off, I guess,” he said dully, just as his ring beeped again. “Before I go—what’s your name?”

“Oh, um... Marinette. I’m Marinette,” she said, brushing an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear.

Chat considered reaching out and kissing her hand, but couldn’t summon up the energy for dramatics. Instead, he settled on a small but genuine smile. “Nice meeting you, Marinette.”

As he backed away, Scarlet’s voice seeped into his ears again. “Well obviously my sidekick is so destructive I have to save the day,” she was saying. “You saw how he obliterated the Eiffel Tower’s railing today. That’s part of why I’m so vital. I have to fix both everything the akuma destroys and everything he destroys. Plus, I’m the only one who can purify the akuma. It’s all dependent on me. ... Yeah, exactly, it’s a heavy responsibility....”

Chat started running, and her voice faded into the wind.

Exhaustion and the draining unpleasantness of Scarlet Lady prodded at him, but he reminded himself of Marinette, still alive and well because of him, and knew it was worth it.

***

“So by the time I biked to the Eiffel Tower, it was all over,” Alya said the next day as they neared the front steps of the school. “I’m way bummed. Not that I think that signifies compared to what you went through!” she added quickly, glancing nervously at Marinette.

Marinette smiled. “It’s fine.” Alya and her parents had already spent all of yesterday evening coddling and worrying about her; she knew Alya took what happened seriously. “And don’t worry. You’ll get your scoop eventually.”

“You’re right. Next target: Scarlet Lady, an exclusive interview!”

“Ooh, sounds exciting,” Marinette said, keeping her doubts to herself. Scarlet Lady hadn’t impressed her yesterday, and though she hadn’t thought much of it in that first interview with Alya, the way she talked about Chat Noir grated on her now. Chat Noir, who had been so nice, who’d saved her life, who’d looked so tired....

But no. She couldn’t just go around dragging down Scarlet Lady’s reputation by jumping to conclusions. There was probably more to the situation than she knew.

They entered their classroom. Marinette threw a long look at her old seat, but ultimately passed it by.  _ You can give Hawkmoth the supervillain a piece of your mind, but standing up to Chloé is too much? _ some part of her questioned, but she shook the thought off. It wasn’t the same. She still couldn’t believe she’d done what she had, but it hadn’t been that remarkable, really. She’d only stated the blindingly obvious, and she’d had heroes there to protect her. Hawkmoth would have squashed her like a bug if it hadn’t been for them.

Marinette just wasn’t the sort of person capable of standing up to others like that. She certainly didn’t feel like she could ever take on Chloé.

She settled in for class, and tried to put yesterday out of her mind. This proved a difficult feat to manage, as it turned out to be the only thing anyone cared about. Even Chloé was more than willing to gush about Scarlet Lady to anyone who would listen. Marinette made do, though, and made it through the day without getting too wrapped up in any of her lingering questions and concerns. 

She was getting ready to go home for the day, feeling she’d managed pretty well, when she noticed the new kid, Adrien, had forgotten his umbrella. She picked it up on her way out, hoping she’d catch up with him.

Luck was on her side: she found him standing just outside the doorway in the rain, one hand raised above his head to shield himself. Marinette paused. Outside, the dim, soft light sifting through the dark clouds lent an almost ethereal glow to the world.

She opened the umbrella and held it out over him. “Did you forget your umbrella?” she said with a smile.

He stared at her, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.  _ Poor thing _ , Marinette thought; up close, he looked so tired it was no wonder he’d forgotten his umbrella.

“I—thanks,” he said at length, grasping the handle. “Sorry, I... didn’t sleep well. And I’m not used to this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?” she said. The rain thrummed against the streets and rooftops, light and steady like a gentle whisper.

“Um.” He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground. The thin coating of glistening water on the tiles splashed quietly. “Everything about this. I’ve never been to school before. I’ve never had friends. It’s all sort of... new to me.”

Her heart went out to him. He looked suddenly very lonely and forlorn to her eyes, and his weary slouch reminded her of another blond boy she thought might be in need of a hand.

Perhaps to Adrien, she could lend one.

“That’s alright,” she said warmly. “I think you’re doing great. See you around, Adrien.” And she set off into the cold rain, burning with fresh resolve.

She might not be able to do anything for Chat Noir, but she was going to be the best friend Adrien Agreste could ever ask for.

***

Adrien watched Marinette disappear down the street, running with her backpack over her head against the rain.

He smiled, and a soft warmth bloomed in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Now, I don’t know whether or not I’ll continue this story, because even though I have more or less hammered out a timeline for the rest of it, it was kind of a pain to write. If I do continue, expect me to write at the speed of a three-legged turtle. If you want more, I suggest you check out the art and fic of other people for the Scarlet Lady AU, and of course zoe-oneesama’s stuff—if you haven’t already, that is!
> 
> A few lines and moments in this chapter are taken directly from zoe-oneesama’s comics and content, found here: http://zoe-oneesama.tumblr.com/post/179738705194/scarlet-lady-au-master-post. The specific comments speculating on who Scarlet is right at the beginning of the chapter are from there, along with the line “So, Adrikins, don’t you think Scarlet Lady is like totally amazing?” and also “Well obviously my sidekick is so destructive I have to save the day,” and the thing with Scarlet’s lipstick. Really, though, this entire story is founded on her ideas. Again, written with permission. (Thank you, zoe-oneesama! If there’s anything I’ve missed that should be credited specifically, please tell me!)
> 
> The beginning of the umbrella scene is based on em-chuchu’s lovely and excellent comic of it, found here: http://zoe-oneesama.tumblr.com/post/179248694304/scarlet-lady-au-reverse-umbrella-scene-ft. Em-chuchu, thank you so much for letting me include it! My version couldn’t do it justice, but I really can’t imagine this au without that reversal, and I’m so glad I got to use it.


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